


Bus Travels

by Zeath



Series: Taboo One-Shots [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Touch, But then it's, Consensual Underage Sex, Contracts, Dirty Talk, Extremely Underage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, NSFW, Negotiations, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Touching, Pedophilia, Public Masturbation, Public Sex, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 02:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeath/pseuds/Zeath
Summary: They didn’t say anything, but their eyes never strayed away from each other. Maybe that was Stiles’ first mistake.OrStiles gets into a contract with a certain stranger for his bus travels.





	Bus Travels

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags please guys!!

He took the bus every day to school, knowing it takes a load off his dad, who already struggles with the guilt of leaving his son alone at home. It’s not a hardship; the bus literally pulls up on the corner of his street. He makes sure to renew his ticket every month so that he doesn’t have to stress his father out, Stiles is a good son. He wants to do good in the world and if it means he has to take care of both himself and his dad, then so be it. Maybe this was training for the future, to become a police officer like his father.

Is that why he’s being tested right now?

There’s always a man on the bus he takes in the morning _and_ the afternoon on his way home. He’s always sitting in the back of the bus, and on the first few times Stiles spotted him, he didn’t think anything of it, lots of people took the same bus as he does. Only, that one time when he got on the bus, there were _seats_! He was delighted, and headed straight to them, in the back of the bus. It would take fifteen minutes to get to the school so Stiles enjoyed the view out the window until his stop arrived.

That is, until he saw what the man in the corner of the bus was doing.

Stiles could have called the police, could have told his father that a man was touching himself on the bus where school kids were frequented. In fact, on that day, Stiles was one of seven students who were on the travels, with more to come. He could have done something to make the man stop. But he didn’t. He just watched. The man knew he was watching too, his hand picking up the pace until finally splattering white over the top of his fist, the pulling out a handkerchief that had seen better days, wiping himself down, pocketing the hankie and tucking his dick away in his pants.

They didn’t say anything, but their eyes never strayed away from each other. Maybe that was Stiles’ first mistake.

His second, was thinking he should confront the man when there were empty seats at the back. He sucked in a breath and sat down a few seats away from the man, who, _what a surprise_ , was touching himself again. When Stiles spoke up, he cringed; even to him his voice was shaky at best. “You shouldn’t do that.”

The man didn’t stop his motions, just turned to look over at Stiles and stared. His fist working just a tad faster than before. He had a thick voice, hushed and low yet clear enough for Stiles to hear over the engine of the bus. “You gonna stop me?”

Stiles gulped; he didn’t know how he would even begin in stopping this, this _serial masturbator_. He kept a strong face and hope this time he sounded more confident as he declared, thinking up the worst punishment in his mind. “I’ll tell my dad on you.”

“I think I have a better idea.” The man stated, patting the seat next to him with his free hand. He couldn’t be thinking what Stiles was thinking. The man could go up from a serial masturbator to a bad-touch man. Still, a part of Stiles thought that he could still handle the situation if he sat next to the man, his third and final mistake. The boy moved himself down until he was sitting next to him. “Why don’t you do it for me, then I won’t be doing it.”

What kind of crappy excuse was _that_? Getting a school boy to rub your dick for you. Stiles seemed to show that on his face because the man chuckled and pulled his hand away from his dick, resting it on his thigh. “I promise not to touch myself on the way home, if you do it for me.”

Stiles swallowed thickly once more, his eyes breaking the man’s gaze to look around the bus. No one was even paying attention to them, in their own little worlds with their eyes on their phones or tablets. If he was quick, he could stop his man from possibly harming someone else, and no one would be the wiser. With his mind made up, Stiles shucked his bag off his back and set it next to him to block the woman off who was sitting on the other corner at the back. She didn’t seem concerned though, way too interested in her Candy Crush app to notice a school boy about to rub a stranger’s dick.

He had never been shy when his mind was made up, Stiles reaching out and grabbing the man’s dick and squeezing it. It was weird to touch someone else’s dick; he had jerked himself off a couple times after he’d heard locker room talk about how it was meant to feel good. But he didn’t think it was that great. The man on the other hand found it delightful, resting his head back with a pleased sigh. Stiles got a firm grip around it like he remembers doing to himself, moving his hand up and down quickly. If he hurried this along then no one would catch them in the act.

The man didn’t seem to get the message, his hand resting over Stiles’ wrist to slow him down. “Take your time, make it good for me.”

He didn’t really understand but if it meant that he wouldn’t touch himself later on then Stiles complied, his motions slowing down. For some reason his mouth had filled with saliva, swallowing loud in his ears and licking his lips. He couldn’t take his eyes off the way the skin would stretch before becoming wrinkled, the tip disappearing and reappearing under the flesh. It was weirdly fascinating.

“How old are you?” Stiles was broken out of his thoughts by the man’s thick voice once more. Looking up at him, Stiles noticed how his eyes were gleaming in a way, ablaze with some sort of glee.

He thought about lying; his dad always told him to he truthful to people unless you think they’re _bad_ people, then you lie about everything or make it difficult for them to understand you. It worked, with how much Stiles babbled about everything until he could practically see spirals in people’s eyes; dizzy from trying to wrap their head around what Stiles was saying. In the end though, Stiles flicked his eyes back down to the dick in front of him. “Eleven.”

The man groaned softly, and Stiles thought for a moment that someone would hear them, but when he darted his head around the bus, no one seemed to notice them. Feeling movement, Stiles turned his head back to see the man’s hips rising up off the seat. He let go of Stiles’ wrist then, urging him to pump faster as the large hand wandered over to Stiles’ lap. The boy felt his own crotch being cupped and blushed heavily, biting his lip because that was a _bad touch_ , he knew it in his bones, but he didn’t say anything.

His hand worked faster, the slickness from the top of the dick helping make the glide smoother. There was a small wet sound coming from the movement now and Stiles felt that the end was near, he could handle being touched like this for a little longer if it meant the man was going to let out that white stuff again. His crotch was fondled, squeezed, rolled in the man’s hand, the heat from his palm seeping through his school shorts. Would it be weird if he preferred this hand on his junk, rather than his own?

The glide was faster now, with Stiles using both of his hands now that his wrist was aching. The man didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact he enjoyed the appearance of having two small hands wrapped around his dick. He was whispering now, just enough for Stiles to hear and his ears burned with embarrassment. “Good boy, make it good for me. You wanted this to happen, didn’t you? You sat next to me, watched me, could have said something but you didn’t because you wanted a turn. Wanted to touch me, didn’t you boy? Letting me touch your little cocklet, huh? Rubbing my cock with your kid hands, _fuck_ , I’m gonna cum for you.”

He didn’t really understand what was going on, but flinched when he felt wetness splatter over his hands. He watched, almost with awe, at the way the white stuff spewed out of the little hole in the top. He kept moving his hands thought, until the man pulled his hand away from Stiles’ crotch and took out his handkerchief once more. He was careful then, making sure that all the goo was off Stiles’ fingers before wiping his dick clean and tucking the hankie into his pocket once more.

“Thanks, kid.” The man grunted, his grin cheeky and Stiles felt proud of himself in that moment, knowing that he did a good deed, that this man wasn’t going to be doing it on the way home and disturb the peace. After tucking his dick into his pants, he pats Stiles’ knee then, and the boy looked up at him once more. “You’ll do this tomorrow too, won’t you boy?”

At first Stiles was appalled; he couldn’t do this every day, then _he_ would be the serial masturbator. He was going to argue, but the way the man held his hand on Stiles’ knee, the school boy gulped. He didn’t want to let this get out of hand, and have the man continue with this and possibly hurt someone else. That wouldn’t be what a police officer would do, no, they would find a way to resolve the issue, by any means necessary as he remembers his father’s words. But this felt wrong, and he still had the option of talking about it to his father in case the man did it to anyone else, or it would be on his head. Stiles squeaked out then, wanting to lay out his options in more light. “I’ll think about it?”

The man didn’t argue, just gave Stiles’ knee a squeeze and pulled away, enjoying the rest of the bus ride in peace. Stiles got off the bus first, going to school with a weight on his chest and didn’t pay attention to any of the work. He was far too busy thinking about what could happen if he told, if he didn’t tell, would _he_ be in trouble. He wrote it down in his book instead of his math equations, the pros and cons.

By the end of the day, Stiles had come to his answer, getting on the bus once more and spotting the man in his usual seat. The afternoon bus was a little bit busier but enough that Stiles could squeeze past a few standing people and sit at the back of the bus next to the man. Stiles checked and was pleased to see that the man had kept his word, dick remaining in his trousers. He cleared his throat then and turned to the man. “I’ll do it, but I want to make a contract.”

The man raised an eyebrow then, pushing Stiles to explain. “You won’t ask anyone else to do this, and you don’t tell on me if you get caught.”

The man chuckled at this, nodding his head to agree and shook Stiles’ hand when the boy stuck it out. Only the most honest contracts ended with a handshake. “If we’re doing this contract then I have a couple of requirements of my own. You do it in the afternoons too, and I get to touch you whenever I want.”

Stiles balked a little, but he knew that a contract had to go both ways or it would just a dictatorship, like he learned in his history class. It wasn’t fun for anyone. Stiles agreed to the man, shaking his hand once more and as if that was out the way, the man unzipped his trousers and placed his hand on Stiles’ thigh, rubbing it. “Get to it then, boy.”

Without pause, Stiles’ small hands slipped into the man’s zipper to wrap his fingers around the man’s dick, hot to the touch and already hard. This would be his first duty as a to-be officer of the law, making sure no one was disturbing the peace in his neighbourhood.

**Author's Note:**

> As always check out the rest of the Taboo One-Shot series, kudos, and subscribe for more!


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